


what strange bedfellows

by ficwriter103



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inexplicable babies, Kidfic, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-23 23:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficwriter103/pseuds/ficwriter103
Summary: Ever since the Incident two years ago, Maia had resigned himself to a quiet life in Edonomee with his son, Chenela. That is, until the messenger bearing bad news. With his father dead, Maia sets out to rule the Elflands and make it a safe place for his heir.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We wanted inexplicable babies. So here we are. We wrote this at 1:40am and have no beta so please look kindly upon our mistakes
> 
> Tags will change as the story goes along. I have no idea where this is going. The first chapters will follow the book really closely, but diverge later.

Maia woke to the presence of Pelchara in his room. The manservant was digging through the wardrobe in a hurry, making the barest effort to be quiet.

"What?" he asked blearily, instinctively searching out the crib next to him to make sure the babe had not awakened.

"You are wanted in the receiving room, immediately," Pelchara said. He selected a solemn gray outfit and shoved it into Maia's arms, not bothering to help him undress or dress. None of them ever touched him ever since the incident two years ago.

"There has been a messenger from the court."

Maia's heart did a little flip.

"A message from my father?"

"Dach'osmer Nelar did not say," Pelchara said, backing away. Maia slipped off his nightshirt quickly, used to having to get dressed in a hurry. He leaned over the bars of the crib. Chenela was still asleep, his tiny fingers loosely curled around his blanket. Maia spared a second to touch the soft cheek before straightening.

He followed Pelchara, barefoot out of the room. The servant was wearing the usual servant's jacket over a nightgown, indicating that he too, had been roused, probably by Setheris himself. Despite the fact that none of the people at Edonomee were particularly fond of Maia, they were less fond of Setheris and did not allow the two to be in the same room together. Maia entered the room and found Setheris already there, clad in full formal wear, the scent of smokeweed heavy even from where Maia stood at a distance.

The messenger was maybe a year or so older than Maia himself, elegant even in his road-stained leathers. He was clearly full-blooded elvish, as Maia was not, pale haired and pale eyed.

"Are you the Archduke Maia Drazhar, only child of Varenechibel the Fourth and Chenelo Drazharan?" the messenger asked, looking from Setheris to Maia.

"Yes," Maia said, bewildered. His father had not sent word of anything. Not since his mother died, not even when he had written, begging for help.

The messenger deliberately and with perfect dignity, prostated himself on the threadbare rug.

"Your Imperial Serenity," he said.

Maia could see that Setheris had something to say, but moved forward to interrupt whatever the man might have wanted to say.

"Explain quickly," Maia said as gently as he could. He motioned for Pelchara to leave, but the elf seemed reluctant to go.

"Bring refreshments for the guests," Maia said as an aside. Pelchara went, and the messenger seemed to hesitate.

"Your Serenity, the airship Wisdom of Choharo crashed yesterday, sometime between sunrise and noon. The Emperor Varenechibel the Fourth, the Prince Nemolis, the Archduke Nazhira, and the Archduke Ciris were all on board. They were returing from the wedding of the Prince of Thu-Athamar."

Maia blinked. He moved towards the only chair in the room. Setheris shot out of it like it was on fire, letting Maia have it.

"It crashed? Why? How?" Maia asked, lowering himself into the chair heavily. Setheris began to pace, muttering irritably under his breath. He did not once look at Maia.

"They do not yet know, but the Lord Chancellor has sent Witnesses, and it is being investigated."

"The messages!" Setheris blurted out angrily at last, unable to hold his temper. Maia winced, then berated himself for showing his emotion in front of the messenger. The messenger did not give any indication that he had seen Maia's slip in composure, or took offense to Setheris's lapse in control. Instead, he turned and picked up his dispatch case from where it lay on the side table. As soon as he opened the bag, Setheris snatched the letter and broke the seal. He scanned the paper, his frown turning into a scowl, then thrust the letter back at the messenger, stalking from the room.

The messenger hurriedly presented the letter to Maia.

Maia scanned the contents of the letter as quickly as he could.

> _To the ArchdukeMaia Drazhar, heir to the imperial throne of Ethuveraz, greetings in this hour of greatest grief. Knowing that Your Imperial Serenity will want all honor and respect paid to your late father and brothers, we have ordered arrangements put in train for a full ceremonial funeral in three days' time, on the 23rd instant._  
>    
>  _We will notify the 5 principalities, also Your Imperial Serenity's sister in Ashedro. We have already ordered the courier office to put airships at their disposal, and we have no doubt that they will use all necessary haste to reach the Untheileneise Court in good time for the funeral. We do not, of course, know what Your Imperial Serenity's plans may be, but we hold ourself ready to implement them._
> 
> _With true sorrow and unswerving loyalty, Uleris Chavar._

Maia looked up. The messenger was watching him. To Maia's relief, this was when Pelchara re-entered the room bearing a tray of dried fruit and tea. The manservant had seen fit to put on pants under his nightshirt, and had redone his braid, making him look a little more respectable than usual.

"Please, help yourself," Maia said "I ... we must speak with our cousin."

Pelchara looked stricken at Maia's words, but dutifully followed Maia to Setheris's room.

There was light peeking out from under the heavy door, the moving shadows indicated that Setheris was inside.

Pelchara knocked for Maia, three heavy raps, before opening the door.

Setheris was facing the window.

Maia stepped into the room slowly.

"I would speak with thee, cousin."

The first words said to Setheris in two years, and it was over the death of his father. Maia kept to the other side of the room, unwilling to go any nearer, even with Pelchara present. The manservant had insisted on being present for every interaction between the two of them and Maia had been glad for it.

Setheris reached for the decanter - and Maia was pleased to see it was only water - and poured two glasses instead of one. Maia looked around the room. It was not the bedchamber Setheris had selected in the beginning of his exile. No, it was a smaller, less ornate living space with simple linens and it was the first time Maia had entered this one.

"Thou wish'st advice?" Setheris snapped, visibly trying to control his temper.

"If thou would give it," Maia said, picking up the second glass of water. It was refreshingly cool and helped to settle his racing thoughts.

"He presumes much," Setheris said "Uleris has made no mention of your coronation."

Maia thought back to the contents and realized it to be true.

"Thou must be crowned before the funeral."

"I have to reach the Untheileneise Court as soon as possible," Maia voiced his thoughts "But how?"

"The airship," Setheris supplied "It brought Chavar's lapdog and will return. Thou can go with it -"  and here he faltered, turning to look at Maia with an expression that betrayed his fear.

There was an elephant in the room.

Or rather, in this case, a child.

\---

The airship  _Radiance of Cairado_  hung ominously beside her mooring mast like an isolated thundercloud against the predawn sky. Maia had not been in an airship since the age of eight when he had been brought to the Untheileneise Court for his Mother's funeral, and his memories of that time were full of darkness. He remembered praying to Ulis to let him die too.

The crew of the Radiance were all very solemn; they knew about the Wisdom of Choharo. The grief and fear in their eyes were compounded with confusion when Maia slowly made his way to the mooring carrying a baby. With milkweed coloured hair but skin the colour of an overcast sky, Chenela was undeniably a mix of goblin and elf blood. Maia was the only half-goblin around, but who was the elf? Maia could almost see the question floating in the air as the crew busied themselves with preparations.

Chenela had not been happy at being moved from his crib, but Maia had wrapped his son in the soft blankets and rocked him back to sleep. The warm weight of his body and his head pillowed upon Maia's shoulder had only served to anchor him to reality.

To the captain's credit, he didn't ask any questions or stare as Maia approached.

"Serenity," the captain said.

"We have nothing but confidence in you and your crew."

The captain was startled, but bowed again deeply.

"Serenity," he repeated, in a much stronger tone. Maia carefully picked his way up the narrow staircase, accepting the arm of the crewwoman who was at the top.

"Thank you," he said, and was rewarded with a startled look as well. The other passengers - four couriers, two missioners, and an elderly maza - gaped at Maia, or perhaps the precious bundle in his arms. Perhaps it was for the best, Maia thought. With their attention on the presence of an unexplained babe, they would not remember that he had been dressed in garments unfit for mourning, or that the only tashin sticks he had were the pair that Setheris had brought him as an insufficient apology.

Maia inclined his head at the other passengers and took the seat furthest from Setheris, letting the Chancellor's messenger sit between them. If the messenger was aware how Maia's move would thwart Chavar's plans, he gave no indication of it, doing all he could to help with the travel arrangements. He even helped to bring up the basket of napkins, clothes, and mixed formula for the babe.

"Cousin," Maia said as he sat down. Setheris stiffened, but gave no indication that he heard.

Make no mistake, if there had been any love at all between them, it had disappeared two years ago. Maia could say he despised his cousin and would gladly go the rest of his life without seeing him ever again, but the gods had not seen fit to bestow upon him that boon.

Being relegated to the abandoned hunting lodge Edonomee had been as much of a punishment for Maia and Setheris Nelar. Maia had no clue why Setheris Nelar had been sent away, but he knew that his own punishment was for merely existing. The dislike, which began in earnest ever since Maia was placed in his cousin's care after the funeral of Empress Chenelo, only deepened when Setheris proved himself to be an impatient tutor with a fondness for metheligin.

When he was sober, Setheris had been mean. When he was drunk, he was unreasonable. When he was maudlin... he was unstoppable.

Maia had the misfortune of being present at one of his maudlin drinking sprees. Setheris had finished off several decanters of metheligin, his yearning for his wife like a lance through the heart. Maia, soft hearted and naive, had tried to comfort him in the hopes that Setheris would remember the small kindness and return it eventually. But a pat on the shoulder had turned into a surprise hug, which led to a forceful kiss, which led to Maia struggling on the floor of Setheris's bedchambers, screaming for help in the vastness of the hunting lodge.

In the morning, Setheris had been horrified with what he had done. But no amount of apologies could ever bring back Maia's innocence.

Despite the terror of that night, it had brought some strange allies. Pelchara and Haru had immediately sided with Maia upon realizing how Setheris had wronged him, taking it upon themselves to chaperone all interactions in case Setheris went mad again. Setheris himself had curbed his tongue almost completely, turning to smokeweed instead of metheligin to calm his nerves.

And of course, Chenela, the biggest surprise of all. Maia had not even realized he could carry life. It was not something that he had ever considered, having never bled. According to the doctors Setheris had brought in afterwards, it had been a freak accident, whatever vestigial organs Maia had within him, were not meant to work at all. It was purely bad luck. Maia had written to his father in the hopes of getting some help in the form of an allowance for his new dependent, or a maidservant to help with the babe. There had been no reply, or any indication that his father had ever received the message.

No, Maia gave birth under the watchful eye of two doctors and three nurses who raced to cut the babe out of him and stitch him back up before he bled to death. Setheris had written to his wife to beg for funds, pawning off many of his elaborate outfits and finery to pay the doctors, a small step in his endless penance. The small household had rallied with a grim determination, doing their best to raise the child.

Chenela pulled Maia from his megrims with a soft snuffle, shifting his face closer to the crook of Maia's neck. There was a squeak from the general vicinity of the passengers. Even the messenger's ears twitched.

"Pardon me, Serenity, what is his name?" the messenger asked.

"Chenela, after our mother the Empress Chenelo." Maia smiled, adjusting his position that Chenela would be more comfortable. He tucked one tiny hand back inside the swaddle of blankets.

Whatever else that the messenger wanted to say was cut off when the crewwoman stepped back into the cabin.

"Your Serenity, the captain has taken the helm, and we are preparing to cast off."

"Thank you," Maia said, inclining his head at the crewwoman. He briefly worried if the motion would wake his son, but it was alleviated in the next moment when the airship lurched ever so slightly, then rose into the dawn sky. Maia reclined in his chair, letting gravity rest his son on his chest. It was against court protocol, but Maia could not care less. His son's comfort was tantamount and Maia did not intend to hold his son upright for the two hours it took to get from Edonomee to the Untheileneise Court.

In the dim light, Maia cast a glance over at his cousin.

Setheris looked terrified.

He ought to be so, having raised a hand against the Archduke, now an Emperor. The evidence of his misdeeds was alive and breathing in Maia's arms. Maia could have him executed publicly as was within his rights. Setheris was right to fear retribution.

Maia set aside the thought. Chenela was all that mattered, he reminded himself. Think of thy son first, and thy responsibilities. Punishment may come later.

\-----

Maia was roused from his light dozing by the presence of the crewwoman, kneeling in front of his chair.

"Serenity, the sun is rising and the captain wonders if you would like to watch. It is a beautiful sight."

Maia rubbed the sleep from his eyes. On his shoulder Chenela let out a yawn and stretched. Tiny pale-grey eyes blinked open slowly, fists clutching at the blanket's and Maia's jacket. Chenela raised his head blearily, taking in his surroundings. He seemed surprised at not being in his crib, pushing himself away from Maia's chest.

"Chenela," Maia called his name softly. His son frowned but did not cry, looking around at the airship. Maia held him close, getting up from his chair. Setheris made no move to get up, knowing that he was not wanted in anyway. Maia addressed the messenger.

"Would you accompany us, please?"

The messenger looked a little alarmed, but rose to his feet. The two of them followed the crewwoman to the cockpit where the captain and first mate shared a wide panorama of clouds and sky.

"Serenity," they said in chorus, sparing a second to stare at the toddler Maia carried in his arms.

"Look, the sunrise my darling," Maia whispered. His son's ears went up in interest and he reached out with a tiny hand, making grabbing motions at the instruments.

"Papa, pay?" Chenela asked, pointing at the array of levers.

"Not yet, elfling," Maia said. He couldn't help but nuzzle his son's soft downy hair as they watched the light creep over the horizon. The dark grey was awash with colours as the sun began to illuminate the sky.

"Look, Chenela, sunrise." Maia pointed to the rising star.

"Sawise," Chenela said, putting his fist in his mouth. He huffed, laying his head back down on Maia's shoulder, apparently no longer interested in the proceedings.

"We are most grateful, gentlemen. We will look upon this fondly as the beginning of our reign," Maia said by way of excusing himself.

He made his way back to the passenger cabin and sat down. From the basket, he withdrew a feeding urn that had been made up earlier. It was goat's milk, diluted with some water, sweetened with a spoonful of honey. He offered the spout to Chenela who accepted it easily, holding onto the urn loosely while staring up at Maia's face.

Maia was endlessly thankful that Chenela had not inherited Setheris's cold uncaring eyes. His son's silver eyes had flecks of dark grey in them. His lashes, like his hair, was the colour of milkweed, long and delicate. His light-grey skin was flecked with tiny freckles. He looked utterly innocent, a light in the dark days of he spent at Edonomee despite the pain of how he came to be.

Undoubtedly, the messenger and other passengers had a million questions. Maia could feel the tension in the air. But now that he was the emperor, Maia did not have to answer a single one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: The fic will follow the book closely.  
> Also me: let's drag in more characters

Chenela was completely alert as Maia carefully descended the spiral stairs of the mooring mast. His tiny ears twitched in all directions as he gazed in wide-eyed wonder at the massive sprawling buildings that made up the Untheileneise Court. The messenger thoughtfully maintained a distance of two steps between them, looking as if he were ready to lunge and catch the both of them if Maia were to trip and fall.

Since no one knew that Maia was coming, there was no one to await him at the mooring mast. Maia was relieved because his advantage lay in the element of surprise. Putting a cog in Chavar's plans would ensure that Maia had time to settle his son into the palace and find a nursemaid to take care of him.

Setheris lingered behind, wary of standing too close to Maia.

"Please, would you guide us, Mer-" Maia asked, trailing off to let the messenger fill in his name.

"Csevet Aisava, Serenity. And it would be our honour." The messenger bowed deeply and motioned to the long walkway.

"Where would you like to go, Serenity?" Csevet asked as he walked ahead.

Maia turned to look over his shoulder. Setheris was still pale-faced and scared, but he rallied himself and answered on behalf of Maia.

"The Tortoise room in the Alcethmeret would be a good choice," he said, voice carrying far enough that Csevet heard it as well.

"Very well, lead us there Mer Aisava."

Maia's mind drifted as they walked. Chenela needed clothes. Maia had only packed two outfits in his hurry. He needed cloth diapers, baby food, a crib, and if possible, toys. Preferably as soon as possible so that his son would not need to go without. In his haste, he had forgotten Chenela's walking slippers, only bringing the booties that were meant for warmth. They did not provide much in the way of traction and Maia did not want his son to slip all over the place.

Csevet led them down the corridors to a massive grill, which he opened with a flourish.

The Tortoise room was small, draped in amber-coloured silk that gave it a warm feeling. Maia scuffed the floor with his foot, wondering if it was clean enough to let Chenela stretch his legs. Maia's embroidered slippers made no mark on the tiles, but Maia decided to leave that to a little later, instead bringing Chenela over to the soft cushion chair near the fireplace.

Chenela grabbed onto the back of the chair immediately, holding himself up with a smile. He seemed intrigued by the new surroundings, particularly the comfortable plushness of the chair which would never have been found in Edonomee. He stomped his feet in place repeatedly, laughing to himself at the bounce provided by the overstuffed chair. Maia took the time to enjoy the tiny nugget of happiness.

A goblin-dark girl scurried into the room, nearly tripping over her skirts and dropping her tinder box in her hurry to light the fire. She bowed once to Maia, then to Setheris, then struck the match and lit the fire.

"Baa," Chenela said, tilting his head when he noticed the presence of another person. It was the first time Maia's son had been exposed to so many new people in such a short amount of time. The girl's head snapped up at the sound of a baby's voice, surprise writ all over her face. Chenela bounced on the chair, then reached out with grasping fingers.

The girl looked to Maia, then back to Chenela, who was obviously reaching for her.

"Go on," Maia said. The girl hesitated, but then stepped forward, bending over so that Chenela could pat her face. Aside from Maia, Chenela had never seen someone with a similar skin colour. Chenela babbled at her a little, then looked over at Maia with a big smile. Whatever nerves the girl had disappeared in the presence of an adorable toddler. She giggled when Chenela patted her hair and investigated the rings in her left ear.

"That's enough, Chenela," Maia said quietly. Chenela whined petulantly. Maia repeated himself firmly. Chenela stuffed one fist into his mouth, pouting as he sat down, upset at being denied a playmate.

"Thank you," Maia told the girl. She bowed again deeply, then hurried out of the room.

"Mer Aisava, please bring us the house steward, a nursemaid, then the Chancellor."

Csevet, more perceptive than most, gave Setheris a dubious look as if the man could not be trusted around Maia. The subtle judgment did not go unnoticed. Setheris did not react, but his pale ears went completely red with anger and shame.

"At once, please," Maia chided softly.

Csevet bowed as well and excused himself.

"What...." Setheris wanted to say something, but could not bring himself to ask.

Maia allowed him to stew for a moment, focusing his attention on Chenela, who had started to smack a decorative pillow, unaware of the tension in the room. The intricate bead design on the pillow seemed to be a source of amusement and stimulation for the child.

"Thou raised me," Maia said idly. It was a miserable childhood compared to the happy days he spent with his mother.

"I did." Setheris looked as if he was at a loss, wondering why Maia was stating such a blatant fact.

"And from thee I begot Chenela."

At the sound of his name, the toddler cooed, offering the pillow to Maia. Maia declined it with a smile.

Setheris dropped to his knees and prostrated himself in front of the chair, ears quivering in fear.

"Please, at least allow me to see my wife one last time-"

"I will not execute thee," Maia interrupted his spiel, "Chenela is a blessing for all the pain I suffered, and thy penance is not yet done."

"What must I do?" Setheris looked terrified, no doubt imagining the punishments Maia would dole out.

There were a million things that Maia could have him do, or order done to him. The both of them knew the law for Setheris had drilled it into Maia from a young age. But that way lay a terrible poison. There was no greater addiction than an addiction to power. And if there was one thing that Setheris had taught Maia intimately, it was that being drunk off anything was a danger.

Maia regarded his cousin with an impassive expression. Setheris hated him. This would not change no matter what Maia did. Setheris would hate him for the years at Edonomee, hate him for the fact that Maia bore his misdeed into being, then hate him for any sort of forgiveness. This was also a fact that both of them knew.

But Chenela was also Setheris's son. It was in his colouring, in the shape of his jaw, in the arch of his brow, the curve of his tiny ears. For his sake, Maia hoped that Setheris would set their mutual hatred aside.

"All thou can afford, to ensure his safety," Maia said with finality. Setheris lifted his head slowly. Despair and relief warred in his expression. Maia knew that he wanted nothing more to forget, but he could not. No, this was one mistake that Setheris could not cover up. This  _mistake_ would grow up, laughing and playing in the sun, and one day sit upon the throne. The matter of how Chenela came to be would eventually be known. Whispers would dog Setheris forever, ruining his reputation and forcing him to rely on Maia's charity in some grim ironic turnabout of fate. He would be forced to be loyal for he could not guarantee anyone else would look kindly upon his mistake. Even if Maia would rather his loyalty freely given, this was the best he could get, and this would be his penance.

"Yes, Serenity."

* * *

 

Chenela had let himself down from the chair and was investigating the table's ornate legs when Csevet appeared at the door again.

"You house steward, Serenity. Echelo Esaran," Csevet announced.

"Thank you, Mer Aisava. Now for the Lord Chancellor." Maia inclined his head in thanks.

Csevet nodded and vanished again.

Esaran was a woman in her mid-forties who sported a servant's close cropped hair. She wore her livery with the air of expensive robes. Her face and ears gave nothing away even though her eyes lingered a tad too long on Chenela.

"Serenity," she said, sinking to her knees. Her tone was stiff and precise, unyielding in a way that made Maia realize that she would not necessarily be loyal or helpful to him. Her loyalties most likely lay with his father, who had no doubt poisoned his servants's mind against Maia.

"Merrem Esaran, thank you for your service," Maia said despite his misgivings "Please convey our sympathies and gratitude to the household staff. Please see to a crib, clothes, walking slippers, and food fit for a babe of fifteen moons."

Chenela toddled over to look at the new person, then with a squeak, went running back to hug Maia's legs. Maia picked him up and settled the toddler on his knee, bouncing him lightly.

"Say thank you," Maia instructed.

"Thank," Chenela chirped, he grabbed onto Maia's jacket lapel and started to nibble on it.

"The food first, please. Mashed potatoes or peas will do. Milk as well. Fresh."

There was wonderment, confusion, and suspicion in Esaran's eyes, but she voiced none of them. Instead she inclined her head and excused herself with a soft 'Yes, Serenity'.

The next half hour was spent watching Chenela play among the silk hangings. Maia did not have to wait long for the arrival of two servant girls, one barely past her sixteenth year and the other around Maia's age. They introduced themselves as Peris and Miru. From the look of them, they were sisters. Maia cast a critical eye over them, trembling as they were on their knees in front of him, feeling a pang of pity and regret for their fear.

"Chenela, come," Maia motioned to his son.

Chenela pulled the silk cloth off one of the tables as he came, dragging it behind him. He dutifully went to Maia and allowed his father to pick him up.

"Who do you like more?" Maia asked, directing his attention to the two sisters.

"Baa," Chenela said, looking between them. He nibbled on his fist with a frown.

"Serenity, if we may," Peris said, offering her arms. Miru, the younger picked up the small dish of hastily mashed potatoes, scooping a little into a spoon and offering it to Chenela.

Chenela squinted at both of them before grudgingly allowing himself to be held by Peris. Miru blew on the spoonful of potatoes carefully, tested the temperature with the tip of her finger then guided it to Chenela's mouth. He opened his mouth readily, taking in the morsel.

"Papa?" Chenela asked, looking at Maia questioningly.

"Later, darling."

"There is a waiting room adjacent," Setheris supplied. The two sisters took the cue readily, adjourning to the next room to feed Chenela. Maia had to clench his fists in the material of his pants to prevent himself from running after them and snatching his son back. In Edonomee, he had nothing to do but play and teach Chenela. But now he had responsibilities and he couldn't feed his son while discussing serious matters with Uleris Chavar.

Setheris gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Maia was doing the right thing. The approval felt hollow.

Scarcely had the girls settled into the next room, when there came a commotion on the stairs outside. Setheris's expression showed every ounce of his disdain when Chavar, short and stocky, blustered into the room ahead of Csevet, who had been trying to prevent Chavar from entering without being announced.

"The Lord Chancellor, Serenity," Csevet said belatedly, looking rather put out that he was not allowed to perform his job correctly.

"Serenity!" Chavar boomed, nearly kneeling upon Maia's toes.

Maia ignored him pointedly.

"Mer Aisava, please locate Dach'Osmer Nelar's wife."

Chavar had no choice but to remain kneeling until Csevet had departed and Maia indicated he could rise. Maia gestured to the chair as a sign of favour the Lord Chancellor could not ignore.

"What is Your Serenity's will?" Chavar asked, ill grace oozing from his pores. It was clear that he had intended to steamroll Maia's thoughts, whatever they might have been, but Maia would not allow that.

"We wish to discuss our coronation."

Chavar inhaled deeply.

"Surely, Serenity, this is not the time for the coronation, your father's funer-"

"We wish to discuss our coronation," Maia repeated. He kept his tone mild as he stared straight at Chavar.

The sooner Maia sat on the throne, the safer for Chenela. Or so he hoped.

Chavar shut his mouth with a click.

"Serenity, if you would share your plans, we would-"

"How soon can you arrange our coronation? We do not wish any more delay than is necessary in rendering the proper rites and obsequies to our father and brothers, but we also do not wish to do anything in a slipshod or hasty fashion."

Chavar's ears twitched minutely. He clearly had not expected Maia to give him any trouble. But even if Setheris had despised Maia from the start, he had done part of his duty in teaching Maia all the protocols central to the upkeep and succession of the throne. Learning to juggle a child and his studies had sharpened Maia's wits even more. Although he knew himself to be yet naive, Maia knew enough to throw Chavar's plans off its tracks completely.

"We can prepare the coronation ceremony for tomorrow afternoon, Your Serenity, but it will mean delaying the funeral for another day...." Chavar trailed off, hoping that Maia might still be browbeaten into acceding to his wishes.

"Will the princes arrive in time?" Maia asked politely, as if he didn't know. Chavar's ears twitched again. They both knew that the princes would not arrive in time. Chavar could not say he had known, however, because that would mean he had deliberately left the princes out of the arrangements and that would have been an act of open contempt.

"Forgive our oversight, Serenity. If we send the messages today, they will arrive on the twenty-third," Chavar said, "Shall we make arrangements for your coronation on the twenty fourth, Serenity?"

"Yes. If possible, let the funeral be on the same day as well," Maia said. As he was about to motion for Chavar to leave, something else occurred to him.

"What of the other victims?"

"Serenity?"

"The others on board the Wisdom of Choharo. What are the arrangements made for the pilots and servants?"

"Them? There will be a funeral this afternoon at the Ulimeire."

"We will attend," Maia decided. Chavar gave him a look that could only be described as aghast. But he could not say anything for Maia had gestured for him to leave and he was not welcome to stay. Chavar bowed hastily and then left.

Maia remained seated for another minute before getting up to go to his son.

Upon reaching the door to the adjacent room, Maia burst out laughing.

Chenela's clothes had somehow remained spotless even if there was mashed potatoes smeared over his little face. But the two servant girls did not fare as well. There were bits of food in their hair, on their faces, and down the front of their aprons.

"Serenity!" Peris said, looking distressed.

"Come here," Maia crouched, opening his arms to Chenela. The toddler ran over to his father happily and allowed himself to be picked up. Miru handed Maia a wet cloth, which he used to wipe Chenela's mouth.

"Yum," Chenela said, looking very satisfied with the havoc he had wreaked.

"Go get cleaned up, we thank you for your service," Maia said. The girls seemed a little reassured by his smile. They both curtsied and then cleared away the dishes quickly.

"Thank," Chenela called after them as they left, waving without a care in the world.

Maia marveled at how a child raised in a place of despair and sadness could turn out so happy and carefree. It was both a boon and a curse that Maia had been thrust upon the throne such. On one hand, Chenela would want for nothing with all the palace available to him. On the other hand, these material fancies came with the golden cage of responsibility, something that Maia wanted to keep from his child as long as possible.

"Cousin, send for the Master of Wardrobe," Maia said to Setheris, "When that is done, go to your wife."

Setheris muttered a grudgingly thankful "Yes, Serenity," and then disappeared to do as Maia bade.

* * *

 

Clemis Atterezh was a middle-aged rabbit faced man who looked as if he might faint if Maia so much as raised his voice against him. He wrung his wrists as both Emperor and young son regarded him.

"Pay," Chenela decided. Maia set him down on the floor and Chenela immediately busied himself with the silks, wrapping them around his head like a shawl and pretending to hide.

"Ser-serenity?" Atterezh was trying not to look as if he was looking at Chenela, much like in the way one would try not to look at something one thought was an apparition glimpsed in a dead of night.

"Our coronation will be on the twenty-fourth. After which will be the funeral. Before all that, we will need a wardrobe for this one," Maia indicated Chenela "And for the funeral this afternoon."

"Yes and but funeral?" Atterezh started three sentences and finished none of them.

"We are not yet crowned, but we wish to attend the funeral of the crew and passengers of the crash," Maia explained further.

Atterezh looked between Chenela and Maia several times, before gathering the courage to speak.

"We shall see what can be done, Serenity. Do you know when the funeral will be held?"

"No, but do find out for us."

Atterezh nodded curtly, and with another bewildered look at Chenela, departed from the room promptly. The door was scarcely able to close before it was flung wide open and a young boy barreled in, flinging himself face down at Maia's feet. It was pure steel will that had Maia frozen in place instead of drawing his legs up in fright.

"A letter! Serenity!"

The piece of paper was thrust towards Maia but the boy remained face down on the floor. Chenela, astounded by this new development, sat himself on the floor next to the boy and touched his ears. The messenger boy twitched all over, but made no move to rise.

Maia broke the seal and unfolded the paper, scanning the contents quickly. As he did, his eyebrows rose higher and higher.

"That's enough, Chenela," Maia said to spare the poor messenger boy from having his ears tweaked off. Chenela mumbled some sounds but did as he was told, following Maia as he went to the desk to pen a reply.

He paused at the end. To sign with his given name would be to acknowledge that she had been correct in addressing him in that fashion. But he had to choose a dynastic name. Most people would just assume that he would become Varenechibel V, but his father had been no kind emperor and Maia wanted a better legacy for his own son. Casting his mind back through his history lessons, Maia recalled Edrehasivar VI, who had a long and peaceful reign that brought economic gain to the Elflands.

 _May mine be as long and peaceful as his_ , Maia thought to himself as he carefully signed the letter _Edrehasivar VII Drazhar_.

He sealed the letter with a bit of wax retrieved from the desk as well, not bothering with any sort of imprint.

"Take this to the zhasanai," Maia instructed. The boy launched himself upright, nearly hitting the chair as he did so. He took the letter with great reverence and left with equal alarcity.

Maia had barely sat back down when three people arrived at nearly the same time.

First was Atterezh, who shuffled in with an armful of black and plum cloth. Second was a young man dressed as a soldier with the soldier's topknot, wearing the Drazhadeise seal on a baldric across his chest. Third, the young man with an untidy queue and a baldric over a shabby blue robe. All three knelt in a row with a chorus of "Serenity", and waited.

There was a beat of silence before someone moved to speak first.

"If you please, Serenity." Atterezh first, indicating his tape measure.

"Yes, please do," Maia said. They both rose to their feet and Maia allowed Atterezh to begin taking measurements. To the two other kneeling men, he said, "Introduce yourselves, please."

"We are - _a child_!" the one with the untidy queue started to introduce himself but was distracted by Chenela's foray into the lump of cloth Atterezh left on the floor. Chenela rolled around on the soft cotton, clenching his fingers in the material and bunching them up, all while cooing softly to himself.

Maia managed to stifle his snort of laughter at the strange sentence, and was hard pressed to school his face at the soldier's expression of utter outrage.

"We are not a child," the young man hastily ammended "We are Cala Athmaza, sent by the Adremaza at the behest of Dach'osmer Nelar."

It looked to Maia as if Cala didn't really care for the job or disdain it in anyway.

"Deret Beshelar, Serenity, sent by the captain of the Untheileneise Guard at the behest of Dach'osmer Nelar." He looked as though he had no idea who was more worthy of his disapproval, the untidy maza, or the young emperor.

Beshelar had much better training and did not stare at Chenela playing amongst the plum cloth, but Cala had no such compunction and was openly fascinated by the toddler who seemed utterly unafraid of them. Maia was faced with a monumental decision - to share the circumstances of Chenela's birth, or not. It was difficult either way. If he told his household, he would face backlash for having engaged in a _marnis_ act, and bearing a child, which was thought to be woman's work. People might whisper about how his child-bearing ability would affect his ruling ability, given that most people thought women were prone to hysterics because of children. If he did not, he would still face backlash for having acknowledged a bastard child without even bringing the mother into the picture. Instead of being just an unkempt ragpicker's child, he would be called an unkempt promiscuous ragpicker's child, unable to control his carnal desires and being unfavoured enough to have to raise the child himself.

"We are pleased to have the both of you," Maia said, "We are Edrehasivar, to be crowned the _seventh_ of that name at midnight of the twenty-fourth." Maia looked at the two nohecharei, attentive to his every word, and Atterezh who was trying to pin some cloth into a semblance of proper mourning clothing. They had been honest with him to a fashion, honest with their feelings at the very least. The nohecharei would be the closest to him. Surely they would find out sooner or later? Perhaps it would be better to start off with utter honesty.

Maia said to his son, "Chenela, come."

So used to obeying his parent, Chenela went immediately and let himself be picked up with a crow of delight. Maia kissed his soft cheek and smoothed down his curly hair, murmuring praise for his prompt response.

Then to the three men, "This is Chenela Drazhar, borne of our body."

* * *

 

 _You could hear a pin drop in the silence_ , Maia thought. And in the next second, the pins Atterezh were holding did slip from his fingers and land with a plink-plink-plink on the floor of the Tortoise room.

Csevet chose this exact moment to re-enter the room and kneel next to Cala. 

"If there is nothing else, Serenity," he began, then realized that he had walked in on a _moment_. Again he proved himself perceptive. With a look at the three stunned faces, which were all directed at the babbling toddler, he immediately guessed the source of their shock.

" _But how_ ," Atterezh said faintly. Maia caught him about the elbow and directed him to the chair so that he would not collapse in shock. The man sank into the chair feebly with a muttered thanks.

"If we may, there are people who carry the attributes of either sex, it is not uncommon in pure-blooded goblins, and it is not unsurprising for one with goblin blood to inherit such a trait," Csevet cut in smoothly so that Maia did not need to answer, "Of course, it is not the people's place to question the heir apparent of the Emperor, _ruler of the Elflands_."

His gentle words were laced with steel and a warning to the people present. Maia felt himself warm to the messenger. It was fortuitous that one of the very first people he met into his reign did not regard him with great enmity, even taking steps to speak well of him and defend him.

"Thank you, Mer Aisava."

"For that matter, Serenity, the Lord Chancellor has agreed to cede me to your service should you require it, Serenity."

"We do require it," Maia said, relieved that he had one person who seemed solidly on his side, "We would like you to organize our household."

Csevet bowed, pressing his forehead to the floor once, then rose. He pulled a pocket-watch from his jacket and said "In that case, we will begin with luncheon at 12."

With that, he departed in search of the cook.

There was another uncomfortable silence as the three men tried to think of what to say.

"If we may," Cala began, "The father?"

"Is paying penance as we see fit," Maia said mildly, bouncing Chenela lightly. The toddler grabbed at Maia's tashin sticks, pulling them out and dropping them on the floor.

There was a growl from Beshelar as soon as he grasped the meaning of what Maia said. Atterezh made a strangled sound and fanned himself at the thought.

" _ **He should be drawn and quartered**_ ," the soldier snarled, hands curling into fists at his side, "Serenity if you grant us leave we will have him drug through the city -"

"We would rather our reign begin with forgiveness and peace instead of an execution," Maia cut him off before Beshelar could go into detail of what Setheris deserved for laying a hand on the Emperor.

This statement was met with three equally incredulous looks. Maia felt a little wrong-footed. Beshelar especially, had seemed so ready to disapprove of him mere minutes ago, but now seemed to be firmly on his side. It was like Pelchara and Haru all over again.

"The indignity-" Beshelar started to protest.

"Gave us a beautiful, cherished, son," Maia finished the sentence for him "One that we thank Csaivo for each and every day."

"Thank," Chenela chimed in, giving everyone a big smile. Such was the innocence of a child. He had no inkling of what was being discussed, or how it would impact his life. All Chenela knew was that his beloved parent was carrying him and that there had been a number of strange people coming in and out of the giant room, which was very exciting.

"It is our wish that the father be unharmed and left undisturbed. We will hear no more on the subject."

The three men were still visibly distressed, but accepted Maia's decision on the matter.

Both Cala and Beshelar rose gracefully. Maia beckoned both of them forward, then directed Chenela's attention to the both of them.

"This is Cala, sweetling, this is Beshelar."

Chenela looked from soldier to maza, to soldier, then to maza again. He extended chubby arms towards Beshelar.

"Up," Chenela gave Beshelar a hopeful look.

The soldier looked like a deer in headlights. Maia was pretty certain that learning to carry a child was not included in guard training, but Beshelar taking Chenela into his arms easily. The toddler patted Beshelar's cheeks, then traced the outline of the Drazhadeise seal on the baldric.

"Beshelar," Maia repeated to his son. The toddler gave the soldier a serious look.

"Balar," he said with a solemn look. Maia was treated to the sight of Beshelar's ears going pink, whether with pleasure or embarrassment, Maia knew not.

"Honoured to meet you, Archduke," Beshelar said quietly. He bounced the child several times, then retreated to a corner of the Tortoise room. Cala looked a little disappointed at not being chosen, but moved to the entrance of the door to begin his guard duties as well.

Now with his hands free, and Atterezh recovered enough from the shock, Maia turned his attention back to the clothing for the funeral.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking name suggestions for baby number 2. Also Happy Lunar New Year!

The Ulimeire was on the outskirts of Cetho, the city that circled the Untheileneise Court like a crescent setting for a pearl. Descending from the embarassingly large imperial carriage after Lieutenant Beshelar and Cala Athmaza, Maia thought unhappily that it might as well have been in another world. Despite Csevet's competence, even he wasn't able to find and vet a proper nursemaid within a morning, which meant Maia had to leave Chenela in the dubiously capable hands of Peris and Miru. They were very nice girls, he thought, perhaps just not experienced in childcare, but they were the only people the household could spare at the moment on such short notice. Chenela had thrown a tantrum of epic proportions, screaming and yelling, and  _stripping_. When Maia had been forced to leave by the late hour, his son had just tossed both slippers out of the window - Peris had caught the jacket before it ended up the same and sent Miru to search for the slippers. Maia was torn between feeling frustrated because his son wouldn't listen, or proud that Chenela had a decent throwing arm. 

Maia was thankful for the fact that Deret Beshelar had managed to recruit another guard, Telimezh, to watch over them so Maia could be assured of Chenela's safety if not his happiness. 

Maia was also quite tired of assuring everyone that he had not changed his mind, though he was glad of the fact that his new nohecharei were more concerned with possible attacks or attempts on his life instead of decorum.

Cala opened the gate and Beshelar announced "His Imperial Serenity Edrehasivar the Seventh!" 

Maia's will was once again tested when a prelate prostrated himself at Maia's feet with a tremulous "Serenity we were not told!"

This was followed by a wave of people prostrating themselves as Maia moved through the congregation.

Murmurs of 'Serenity' rippled through the temple, creating a wave of unease in Maia. After a lifetime of obscurity, the attention was jarring.

"Please, rise," Maia said. To the prelate, he said "Thank you for receiving us."

Every face was turned to him. Maia was comforted in the knowledge that they too were uncomfortable, confused, and discomfited by his presence.

"We are," Maia hesitated, "truly and deeply sorry," here he noticed Beshelar's apalled expression, and had to disguise his hysterical giggle with a cough and a sob before continuing "for the loss and suffering each one of you have suffered. Your pain is felt, and acknowledged. It will not be forgotten." 

This end of this short speech brought forth several hushed sobs and a child's whimper.

"We have no place fit for an Emperor," the prelate said, wringing his hands "but we are honoured, Serenity."

"Let us instead focus on honouring the dead," Maia said gently. 

The mourners, some in livery, some in shabby mourning garments, shuffled around until a space was made for Maia and his nohecharei to the right of the altar.

"Ulis, God of death, receive us as we return," the prelate raised his hands and began the usual funeral rite. He spoke simply, his voice bouncing off the walls of the Ulimiere.

There were no dramatic pauses, affected sobs, or wild gesticulation like the Archprelate of Cetho had done at the funeral of the Empress Chenelo. 

Maia's mother had entered too young, into a loveless marriage with a man that had disdained everything about her. He would not have even considered their arrangement of it weren't for the fact that the Elflands needed an alliance with the Barizhan empire.

Varenechibel had touched her once, then sent her and Maia as faraway as possible. He had stayed for as little time as possible before leaving the funeral service, not sparing a second glance at Maia weeping for the loss of the only person who showed him love.

Maia startled out of his thoughts when someone bumped into his shin. A little girl, perhaps two summers old, was gently rubbing the hem of his mourning outfit between her tiny fingers, sitting crosslegged on the floor. Her face was tear streaked and her eyes were drooping, probably tired from  a long bout of crying, Maia knew from his experience with Chenela who threw tantrums when he wanted to stay outside.

Cala moved forward to pull the child away, but Maia waved him off. He bent and picked her up, surprised at how light she was, then settled her on his hip. She grasped the lapel of his jacket, then laid down her head on his shoulder. Maia could feel wetness grow on his shoulder, the child's body shaking with quiet sobs, too young to understand death, but not too young to feel pain. 

Maia rocked her gently, one hand patting her tiny back until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep. 

The service ended with the mourners taking turns to pray at the altar. Maia did not kneel or pray, instead waiting till a trembling woman came to claim her daughter.

"Forgive us, Serenity," she whispered. Maia gave her a smile as he handed her the sleeping child.

"No need for forgiveness where no wrong is done," Maia said. The woman, dressed in a patched dress, curtsied clumsily, then backed away. 

"Serenity," Cala said at his elbow, a gentle hint that he was not supposed to spend so much time away from the Alchemeret. Maia allowed himself to be herded into the carriage and sat down heavily on the seat. He let his head rest on the back of the seat, closing his eyes.

"Serenity?" There was a note of concern in Cala's voice now.

"I am fine," Maia said wearily "Just ... heavy hearted."

He realized belatedly that he had used the informal and winced. But upon opening his eyes, he was not met with disapproval, but rather a soft look of understanding and sadness from both his nohecharei.

"Rest, Serenity," Beshelar said, "We will wake you when we arrive."

* * *

 

The first thing Maia did upon arriving back at the Untheileneise court was to have Beshelar shut the iron grilles and go to his son. 

Csevet, a thousand blessings upon him, had guessed correctly that Maia would not want to be separated from Chenela, and had a crib for the child placed in the emperor's bedchambers. When Maia arrived, the guard called Telimezh had been standing outside. Beshelar took him aside for a word while Cala stood guard.

"How did he do?" Maia asked of Peris and Miru as he entered. The two girls looked nervous still. 

"He cried himself to sleep, Serenity." And they looked sorry for it. One slipper had been found in a flower bed, the other was still missing, but Miru said that the groundsmen were on the lookout for it.

Maia sent Peris to retrieve dinner and spent a moment to take in the sight of his son in his crib, the blankets askew and crumpled in the corner.

Chenela kicked in his sleep, turning over.

"We changed all the linens and the hangings," Miru ventured "If Serenity would like a nap, we are no edocharei but we can-"

She flushed at the thought of having to undress the emperor.

Maia cast a longing look at the bed. It did look inviting. On a typical day, he would lay down and nap alongside his son. But today was no typical day and there was much to do.

"We thank you for the offer, but we have other matters to attend," Maia said reluctantly.

There was a knock at the door. Csevet entered with Peris carrying a tray of food.

"Serenity, the Rose Room has been readied," Csevet said. Maia nodded to indicate he had heard, but looked back at his son again.

"If we may, Serenity," Peris and Miru said hesitantly. 

"Yes, yes, use the table." Maia waved them off a little impatiently. He took one more moment to breath and just take in the sight of Chenela sleeping soundly. Then, steeling himself, Maia straightened and strode towards the door.

"Come, Mer Aisava. Time is a-wasting."

 

* * *

 

 

Merrem Esaran disliked him and made no effort to hide it. Maia was merely thankful that her distaste hadn't infected the three young men waiting with her. Csevet seemed to disapprove of her blatant disapproval for Maia, which was all very roundabout and felt needlessly complicated. Now if Beshelar sought to disapprove of Csevet disapproving of Esaran's disapproval, it would completely saturate the room! Maia felt the urge to both weep and laugh at the thought.

The young men were introduced as Esha, Member, and Avris, each looking quite nervous about their new position. Esaran titled up her chin after she had said their names, as if daring Maia to challenge or disapprove of her selection - which, of course he wouldn't, given the amount of disapproval rampant at the moment. He sighed internally all the same, wishing that they wouldn't look at him as though he would banish them on a whim. 

"Your discerning eye is more than sufficient,"  Maia said to Esaran, and made an attempt at a smile for the three young men. The resulting look of utter relief on all their faces made Maia want to giggle hysterically. He was the youngest but they all had to defer to him. The thought of such power made his stomach turn. It was seductive, the idea of being able to do whatever he wanted. Just because he could, didn't mean he should. 

Esaran must have seen some of his thoughts on his face for she scowled briefly. She shooed Maia's new edocharei off to start work and began a barrage of questions regarding his preferences, likes and dislikes.

Maia did not think things like silverware, tablecloths, linens, meal times, inventories, and other assets needed so much input from him, but Esaran did not let her personal prejudice against him prevent her from thoroughly grilling him about these minute details. Csevet seemed to think it was necessary and retreated to the table to go through the immense pile of letters that had accumulated through the day. While Maia did not want to spend any more time than necessary being quizzed by Esaran, stopping meant that he would have to attend to the mountain of velum, and the thought was frankly quite unappealing. The decision of whether to stop Esaran was taken out of his hands when Clemis Atterezh brought in what seemed to be an entire shop's worth of cloth in his arms and on a go-cart.

The tailor didn't notice Esaran at first, not with his arms full of material. He dropped the handle of the cart, leaned some of the rolls against the table and then turned to show Maia a lightly patterned beige cotton.

"For the Archd-," Atterezh started eagerly, before realizing Esaran was there and cutting himself off. She gave him a stern look, then said to Maia "By your leave, Serenity."

Maia stalled her with a hand.

"We wish to meet the rest of the household," Maia informed her. His request was met with incredulous looks from everyone but Cala, who was still staring off into space dreamily. 

Beshelar, Atterezh, and Csevet all held their tongues. Maia supposed that one morning with him alone was enough to show that he was a young nitwit who was prone to doing things young emperors most decidedly should not do. 

"Serenity!" Esaran exclaimed, outraged. 

"With introductions," Maia continued as if she had said nothing, then looked at Csevet who made a point of frowning at his pocket watch.

"Tomorrow, after meeting zhasanai Csoru," he decided. It would give the servants time to prepare themselves mentally. Esaran left the room, an unhappy set to her mouth. 

 _Let her despise me_ , Maia thought to himself,  _it can be_ _no worse than what Setheris thinks of me._  He had been despised his entire life, surely one more person on that list would not matter.

"Serenity?" Atterezh ventured, holding up the roll of cloth to draw his attention.

Maia did not care much for the way he was dressed, having worn hand-me-downs for the better part of his youth. What was fashion when one's trousers barely covered his ankles? No, Maia cared not for how he looked - as long as it wasn't like his father - but Chenela deserved all the best Maia could give him.  His son had worn hand-me-downs as well, well-loved gifts from the daughter of Edonomee's cook, old but serviceable. Maia had taught himself how to sew when he was in the last months of carrying Chenela, taking apart his old nightshirts and fashioning tiny pajamas for his son. Chenela deserved something new, something pretty, just for him. 

"The beige will do," Maia said, motioning for Atterezh to continue. 

The man, emboldened by Maia's approval, ploughed on ahead, showing Maia numerous sketches of tunics, shirts, jackets, pants, and a number of other fashionable items in toddler sizes. 

"Matching outfits and some more colourful ones for the Archduke," Atterezh said fervently, laying out all his ideas. He was more obviosly

Maia, tired of making decisions, was sorely tempted to tell Atterezh to have at it. _Thou must not show weakness,_ Maia chided himself,  _an thou can't choose an outfit, how canst thou rule?_   With that thought, Maia picked out five designs that looked the least ostentatious and bade Atterezh to begin work, saying "There will be time for others later, these will do, but the mourning outfits first."

Atterezh nodded and departed, pulling his cart of fabric behind him.

 He was only permitted a moment to relax before Csevet coughed lightly. 

"Yes, the letters."

Maia made his way over to the table and plonked himself down without an iota of grace. Csevet spared him a look of sympathy, then motioned to the stacks of paper.

Everyone who was anyone had sent word. Csevet had sorted them according to their ranks. Closely related family, extended family, House of Commons, House of Blood, judiciars, witnesses, advisers, Maia hardly knew where to start!

"Serenity, perhaps it's best if we simply just... begin?" Csevet offered. Maia closed his eyes, stuck out his hand and let it land. 

"Very well, Serenity," Csevet said. He made to sit across the table but Maia stopped him.

"Beside me, Mer Aisava," he said, regretting immediately his pitiful tone and informal speech. But when he raised his eyes to look, he saw only understanding in Csevet, Cala, and even Beshelar.

"Of course, Serenity." Csevet drew his chair to Maia's side and sat down. He swiftly broke the seal and opened the first letter. 

It was long and tedious work, made worse by flowery language and the way not a single person seemed to be able to get to the point. Csevet had to pick out the little minutiae in each letter and explain them one by one. With each broken seal, Maia felt his headache grow.

To his surprise, there came a knock at the door. 

Before he could ask who was it, the door cracked open and a tiny face peered around it.

"Papa!"

Chenela ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Halfway across the room, he stumbled and hit the floor with a thud, but was up again in the next second. Maia was so surprised it took him a moment to rise and sweep his son up into his arms.

"Sweetling, what are you doing here?"

Maia wiped at Chenela's face. He had been crying again, judging from the puffiness of his eyes. Maia was also surprised to see that Chenela was wearing slippers, though not the ones that had seen a hasty exit via the window earlier.

"We beg your forgiveness, Serenity, but he was inconsolable." Peris entered the room, looking terrified. Maia didn't blame her. Chenela had spent every waking moment by Maia's side ever since his birth. The sudden disappearance of a parent was sure to distress a child, especially one too young to understand why Maia needed to leave. His son's fists were clenched tightly in his clothes, shaking in relief.

Miru entered a step behind Peris. Looking similarly distraught.

"Papa go way," Chenela said, the words muffled by Maia's collar. He sounded so sad, Maia could not suppress the prickle in his eyes. He hummed softly, a half-forgotten lullaby. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cala take Miru aside and say something to her. Both girls left quickly but Maia couldn't find it in him to be concerned at the moment.

Maia settled himself back into the chair, one arm around Chenela. The little toddler, having found his favourite person, was satisfied with just being held. He looked as if he wanted to grab at the letters but did not loosen his grip, afraid that his Papa might disappear if he did. 

"Serenity?" Peris offered him a damp cloth and a glass of water while Miru handed him two tiny dolls. Chenela allowed his face to be wiped and took a drink of water, but refused the toys with a shake of his head and an emphatic 'no no no'.

"You may go," Maia said to the two girls, feeling a little put-out when they looked terribly relieved. It seemed that the people he met today all thought of him in varying degrees of disapproval at his actions or utter relief at being allowed to leave.  _Art the worst,_ Maia chastised himself, _to strike fear in all their hearts_. 

He turned to Csevet, "Please do continue."

Fortunately for him, his son was content to sit and cuddle as Maia went through the pile of letters. Csevet made note of what replies to make, who to summon, and who to befuddle with equally floral language. Maia merely sat there, listening carefully as Csevet thoroughly explained the goings-on in the court. Cala and Beshelar had to be drafted into some of the explanations, which made Maia feel even more out of his depth. 

The most important letters had been left for last, it seemed. Csevet hesitated between the final two, one from Eshevis Tethimar, another from Setheris. Not wanting to deal with his cousin at the moment, Maia bade Csevet open the first. Csevet obeyed, but his ears twitched as he read the letter to Maia. So far, Csevet had not shown any sort of reaction to most of the names, but this one had made him break his collected demeanour. Much like, Maia thought, how he would always feel a twitch of fear when it came to Setheris, no matter how powerful he became. 

"He's fishing for information, Serenity," Csevet said after finishing the letter, an unhappy tilt to his mouth, "most likely for the hand of the Archduchess Vedero."

"He should say it instead of beating around the poor bush, Ulis knows the path around it must be a ditch by now," Maia muttered. The poor grace with which he said this unflattering thing sparked a laugh from both Cala and Csevet. 

"Tell him nothing until we've spoken to our sister," Maia decided. Csevet nodded, setting it aside and pulling up the final letter.

"Serenity, we can pretend this was never delivered," Csevet said, pausing as he held it up. 

Maia felt a sudden pang of warmth suffuse his body. Perceptive, competent, and  _caring_ , Maia wondered if Csevet had been a literally god-given gift to make up for past suffering.  _Or perhaps, a segue into **more** suffering_, Maia had to banish the morbid thought. 

He reached out, shifting Chenela as he did, took the letter and broke the seal. 

"Serenity?" Csevet sounded very concerned. Maia waved him off.

If Cala and Beshelar had any doubts about  _who_ exactly had been involved in the incident, this little byplay would have erased them. It was not hard to put two and two together, given that everyone knew Setheris Nelar had been exiled to Edonomee alongside Maia. 

"What does he want?" Csevet asked.

"An audience."

"Will you grant it, Serenity?"

Maia didn't want to, but he had to, and he had never been a fan of running away from his troubles.

"We will," Maia sighed.

"I shall send word then, for two days from tomorrow," Csevet said. 

Maia let out a helpless giggle. He had to face his cousin, that was inevitable, but no one said it had to be tomorrow! 

Chenela, cheered by his father's apparent happy mood, laughed as well. Maia hugged his son close, rising from the chair with much more grace than he sat down.

"What's next?" He asked Csevet. There were probably a hundred and one other things to attend to right now, but Maia's stomach made a tiny sound. His ears pinked. 

"As it happens, Serenity," Csevet said with a big smile, "It is dinner time."

 

 

 

 


End file.
